I felt a Funeral, in my Brain (class page) Emily Dickinson

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading—treading—till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through

And when they all were seated
A Service, like a Drum
Kept beating—beating—till I thought
My Mind was going numb

And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again
Then Space—began to toll

As all the Heavens were a Bell
And Being, but an Ear
And I, and Silence, some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here

And then a Plank in Reason, broke
And I dropped down, and down
And hit a World, at every plunge
And Finished knowing—then